


Lockdown.

by Friar-Minkus (Combustible_Lemonade)



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood, Hospitals, Junior year, Language, M/M, Mentions of Violence, School Lockdown, mentioned pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combustible_Lemonade/pseuds/Friar-Minkus
Summary: You could hear everyone's breathing, and if you looked around you might see a few dimmed cellphone screens and slightly lit faces. And that's when Lucas realized.Farkle hadn't come back from the bathroom.His heart raced.As he heard doors being shaken aggressively outside the classroom, he knew it was a drill. It was always a drill. But he'd be damned if he wasn't at least a little worried about him. Because...What if it wasn't a drill?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by kostovas and friend on tumblr who asked for "Two words: school lockdown. It could be practice or a real one!!".  
> For the record, it was originally going to be a practice. I was going to make it like Farkle was part of a group of kids who were chosen to pretend to be dead or injured and Lucas was unaware... but then I wondered what if it were real and this happened.

Lucas' attention was drawn away from Mr. Matthews' lesson when he thought he saw his best friend's hand slowly raise in his right peripheral. He glanced over at him, just to see if he was mistaken. Indeed, Farkle had raised his hand, but not to correct his favorite teacher, "May I go to the restroom?"

Mr. Matthews nodded, "Yes, Farkle, you may," he talked with his hands, pointing at the boy as he said his name, "but hurry back. This is a _very important_ lesson."

Farkle nodded hurriedly and nearly leaped out of his chair, heading for the door. Lucas found it impossible not to chuckle silently to himself, the poor sap had probably been holding it for a while so he wouldn't miss anything and just couldn't wait anymore.

Matthews continued his lesson, but the young Texan found himself focusing instead on what to do about a certain handsome, talented, genius and wasn't really listening to the words his teacher was saying, letting them slowly morph into nothing more than a droning background noise for him.

But then a static beep and voice cut through his thoughts.

_"This is a lockdown! I repeat! This is a lockdown!"_

The whole class groaned, obviously it was a drill, it was always a drill.

The class would disperse, going around to lock their doors and cover the small windows on them with pieces of paper, shut their blinds, turn out the lights, and get into a corner of the room, as out of site of both doors as they could.

And then principals and counselors and anyone else was going to walk around the school would shimmy or aggressively shake the doorknobs of classrooms, bang on their doors, pull on them, kick them.

And of course the class was expected to remain completely silent the entire time. If you didn't they would use a key to open your door and remove everyone in the classroom to play dead in the hallways. No big deal, you just sat or laid on the ground until 3 minutes after the drill was over and didn't talk to any one, so everyone was reminded why they did these drills in the first place. 

Despite knowing exactly what to expect, the students rushed around to take care of what was nearest to them. Those on the row next to the windows let down and shut the blinds as quickly as possible. Riley, Maya, and Lucas took care of the class doors. Riley locked the main door by her father's desk while Maya and Yogi quickly stapled pieces of paper together and taped it over the door's window while Darby, Lucas, and Sarah did the same to the second door.

Within two minutes the classroom was done and the lights were out. Everyone was huddled in the corner behind Mr. Matthews' desk. The smallest people placed up as far against the wall as possible under the covered windows, an organization they had decided on as a team the first time they did a drill.

You could hear everyone's breathing, and if you looked around you might see a few dimmed cellphone screens and slightly lit faces. And that's when Lucas realized.

_Farkle hadn't come back from the bathroom._

His heart raced.

As he heard doors being shaken aggressively outside the classroom, he knew it was a drill. It was always a drill. But he'd be damned if he wasn't at least a little worried about him. Because...

_What if it wasn't a drill?_

The boy slowly breathed out, trying to calm himself.

Farkle was smart.

He knew that if you were not in your classroom during a drill, you immediately went to the nearest classroom you could reach as quickly as possible. It just so happened that, with where the bathrooms are, it wouldn't be Mr. Matthew's classroom.

He was going to be fine. Even though Lucas still had a terrible gnawing in his stomach he had managed to convince himself as well as he could.

And that's when he heard it.

 _Gunshots._ Actual _gunshots. Three of them._

They were muffled, like perhaps they were from the second floor, or a bit further down the halls.

Several of the students in the classroom gasped quietly, or threw their hands over their mouths or bit their knuckles, but no matter which they had instinctively done, their eyes were wide in fear.

"Everyone, remain calm, we're going to be alright, just no one scream. Bite your shirts, keep your mouths covered, clench your jaws, do whatever you have to in order to _remain silent_." Mr. Matthews whispered so lowly that if everyone wasn't clutched in fear they probably wouldn't have been able to hear him at all.

But Lucas didn't need to do any of that to remain silent. He was so shocked he couldn't move. Riley was gripping his left shoulder with her right hand, her left clasping her mouth, eyes tearing up. Maya was on her left, wrapping her right arm around the brunette's shoulders while she used her left hand to hold the collar of her shirt up to her mouth, where her teeth were clenched tightly around the yellow fabric.

"Riley...?" Lucas breathed the words as lowly as he possibly could and still be heard. She didn't make a noise, instead her hand twitched in response, squeezing his shoulder just a bit tighter for a brief second.

A door slamming. A yell. A shot. A crash like glass shattering. Another shot. Then another.

It wasn't muffled this time.

It was close.

Very, _very_ , close.

And in the short moment all these sounds rang out the class had huddled closer than ever, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room, the one covered in posters and maps people never paid any attention to anymore; the direction the noises had come from. Almost everyone holding on to someone out of intense fear. Mr. Matthews had an arm wrapped protectively around Maya and Riley's backs, his hand resting on Lucas.

Lucas gulped quietly and continued his inquiry.

" _Farkle._ "

Riley breathed in deeply and clenched him tighter. Her eyes instantly allowing tears to fall. Apparently Maya had heard him too, because he felt Riley be physically pulled more into the blonde girl's direction and when he glanced over at the blonde for that split second he could see the once whites of her blue eyes turning redder, just like they always did when she was going to cry. Even in the darkness he could see it.

There was silence for a long while. Just complete and utter silence. For countless minutes.

But not in Lucas' head.

His head was full of thoughts.

Of concern.

Of _fears_.

He couldn't shut them off.

He couldn't shut them down.

Couldn't shut them up.

Then finally, a shaken voice rang over the intercom.

_"The intruder has been apprehended. The school is now safe. I repeat, it is now saf-"_

Lucas couldn't hear what the woman was saying anymore, but he was the first to get up. Before anyone else in the class was even ready to move he had already leaned over to his teacher's chair and hurriedly grabbed the key from Mr. Matthews' suit jacket.

As she continued to talk over the loudspeaker, Lucas pulled himself off the hard ground and glided over to the front classroom door, unlocked it, and walked out. He didn't bother turning on the light, or taking the key out of the doorknob, or waiting for anyone else. He just left. He was barely processing his surroundings, his pace fast.

He followed where his feet guided him, taking an immediate right as soon as he left the doorway, then the next possible right, then a left. And it was in that hall that a group of students, only a class-worth maybe, were gathered, in a semi-circle it seemed, around the area next to a shattered trophy case.

Lucas must have walked over there, because he was soon pushing himself through the crowd, He didn't even have to touch a single person, because they were parting for him. And he knew; the green-eyed eighteen year-old was already looking down before he reached the center.

_Farkle._

The skinny boy's eyes were closed, his hair and face were bloodied. His face, and presumably scalp, were scratched incredibly and bleeding, the only area that seemed safe were directly around his eyes. Pieces of glass from the nearby trophy case were all around him, even stuck to the blood in his hair and small shards embedded in his face. There were abrasions littering his arms, especially his left, the ones on that arm seemed more numerous and deeper than in the right. There was an especially large cut on that arm where a decently sized piece of glass jutting out of the side, just below the area near his elbow.

Farkle had been wearing a light grey shirt today, but now it was drenched in his own blood. There was a bullet graze in his left shoulder and full blown shot wounds marred the edge of his left ribs and the bony point of his right hip. On the ground next to him, by his right hand, was a medium-sized gold trophy, it also had blood on it, but no where near to the extent that Farkle was covered.

His right hand was placed over his hip, applying pressure, but not much. He was weak and pale and blood was slowly oozing out between his fingers.

_But he was breathing._

Lucas Friar was on the ground next to him in within a second of processing the scene, pushing the trophy away to make room for himself. The Texan immediately shed his own shirt and gently moved Farkle's soaked hand away. He pressed the green fabric into the wounds at the boy's hip and across to his ribs on the opposite side. Farkle coughed and groaned in pain. Lucas, hands still providing firm pressure on the wounds, leaned in so his face was over the other boy's.

"Hey, buddy." Farkle's eyes peaked open, but not all the way, natural instincts and pain kept that from happening as a drop of blood ran from the upper bridge of his nose onto the upper part of his eyelid.

"Lucas..." His voice was gravely and pained.

As a tear fell from Lucas' eye onto Farkle's cheek, but the boy didn't seem to notice. Lucas however realized for the first time that he had been crying for the past several moments, not since he had seen his best friend sprawled and covered in blood on the school's tiled floors, but when the crowd had parted for him, because that's when he knew.

"You're gonna be _fine_. The ambulance is on their way, I'm going to stay with you the whole time, _I promise_. Everything's going to be okay..." Lucas was more trying to reassure himself than Farkle. He was pleading. Because their story wasn't over; their story had yet to begin. It couldn't end now... Right?

" _Lucas_... You perfect... freak..." He chuckled the words through coughs, he was crying too, probably in pain, it was hard to tell if the blood on his lips was from his cuts or worse, "You... You're the best. I-..." He let out a sigh through his nose and managed a small smile, the pain there meaning nothing compared to his shoulder, ribs, and hip, "I'm- Should be fine... No major arteries-..."

It felt like Farkle wanted to reassure Lucas, but didn't know if he himself could really believe it at this point. There was so much blood, who knew how long he had laying there before the school had been given the all clear, but he pressed on, "I'm just gonna need some- surgeries but... ugh... it's not like my family can't-... afford them. Just... Pressure, please..."

Lucas sobbed, but in the same moment a chuckle of slight hope burst from his chest, and he just let out a strange choked huff as he simultaneously cried and smiled. He nodded shakily and almost set a hand carefully on the genius boy's forehead, but stopped upon realizing he needed to keep them exactly where they were at the moment to stop the bleeding. So instead he bent down closer to his friend, almost pressing their foreheads together, but not wanting to touch anymore of Farkle's wounds than necessary, "Good. I can't lose you, Farkle." he pulled back a bit, to give him that stern _'listen to what I'm saying now'_ look of his, "Now stop talking. Save your goddamn energy for telling the EMTs what they're doing wrong."

He went back to resting his forehead close to the younger boy's, and as he did he thought he could feel Farkle's eyelashes flutter, but he didn't move or open his eyes, and neither did Farkle.

He listened to and felt his best friend breathing with him. But he could also feel the stickiness of his best friend's blood seeping though his shirt, so he continued to apply force on the wounds. Lucas heard movement on the other side of Farkle and looked up. Riley and Maya were sitting on their knees by Farkle now, crying silently.

Riley's hand was brushing softly in Farkle's hair, carefully picking the pieces of glass out of it, while Maya took off the jacket she was wearing, and followed Lucas' lead, gently pressing it to the deep abrasion on his shoulder, though it was nowhere near as bad as the other two shot wounds, it was still a cause of blood loss for him.

Lucas looked at the two girls, the blood on their hands and clothes. Farkle's blood.

Riley had one hand on his good shoulder, gently brushing her thumb back and forth over it. She let out a small sob as she looked down at him, eyes never leaving her injured friend's face as she caressed him reassuringly, "We love you, Farkle, _please_ be okay."

Maya's hands were shaking as she swallowed, "Come on, Farkle... You got this... I can't _imagine-_ ," she let out a heaving sob and her shoulders fell. She leaned forward, practically collapsing against her injured friend, her forehead pressed against her own hands on his shoulder. She let out a much louder sob like that, and Riley tried not to follow suit, but it was harder when Maya couldn't stop.

Farkle had passed out, but he was still breathing. That's all that mattered.

After a few minutes there was the sound of three paramedics rushing one of those pop up gurneys down the hall, Mr. Matthews jogging in front of them, guiding them to Farkle. Lucas looked up from his friends and realized all the students had either moved away, watching from a distance now, or left.

One of the EMTs, a woman with short blonde hair and brown eyes, praised the three friends for putting pressure on the injuries, but then told them to move away from Farkle. The girls did so immediately, crawling backwards and holding each other among the glass that littered the ground. 

But Lucas hesitated. He told Farkle he wouldn't leave his side and he was going to keep his word. So even though Lucas eventually did extracted himself and his blood-soaked shirt from the boy's immediate vicinity, he only scooted back a few feet and watched closely as the paramedics placed Farkle on a gurney, gave him oxygen, and continued to provide pressure with cotton pads and gauze, wrapping up his injuries quickly.

The tallest paramedic, a young, probably newly graduated, muscular, man with a shaved head and small goatee, raised the gurney and Lucas raised with it. He approached an empty space next to the gurney and took the younger boy's hand. It seemed that Farkle had become somewhat conscious again, because when Lucas squeezed his hand the other boy squeezed back weakly.

The three adults didn't question it or even try to separate the boys. The one that seemed in charge, a middle-aged woman with short brown hair, just glanced down out their hands before looking up at Lucas and telling him to "keep up" as they rushed toward the exit of the school as quickly as they could without jolting Farkle too much.

Everything was happening too fast and Lucas couldn't process every single detail of anything anymore. Just events. That was all that mattered now.

When they reached the truck, Lucas let go of Farkle so they could put him inside, only to immediately hop in and take his hand again when the opportunity presented itself. He stayed out of the way of the paramedics as much as he could, having to let go of the genius boy multiple times, but always falling back as soon as possible.

When he couldn't hold his hand, he ran his fingers through his hair instead if possible, like Riley had, causing even more powdery shards of glass to fall from his thick light brown hair.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Farkle was immediately rushed into surgery, but Lucas stayed by his side until the very last moment, gently squeezing his hand as they officially separated at the doors of the emergency surgery wing.

Now came the worrying and waiting.

But while Lucas sat on the hardly cushioned waiting room bench, he didn't feel the same dread in his stomach that he did during the events at school. He was still suffocating from abnormal amounts of dread, but it was, for the most part, just extreme concern about how Farkle would be after the surgery. 

Farkle wasn't dead in the school halls when Lucas found him. 

Farkle hadn't died in his arms while they waited for the paramedics.

So while he waited for the Minkus family, and no doubt the Matthews and Harts, to arrive, he had hope that Farkle would be right.

_Please, let him be okay._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Beep... Beep... Beep...Beep... Beep..._
> 
>  
> 
> Farkle opened his eyes. It was bright, too bright, and he found himself clenching his blue eyes shut again with a groan.
> 
> "Oh my god, baby, you're awake! Honey, get in here, he's awake!" 
> 
> _Mom?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys waited all these months and all I could deliver was a short psuedo-filler chapter and _I'm sorry_. 
> 
> I am not gonna lie, I have had most of this written on my computer since I posted the first chapter, but then some personal stuff cropped up. And I wanted to extend this second part, but then I felt like it went on way too long, and I just personally felt like Farkle waking up and seeing his parents was too important to skip straight to Lucas seeing him. 
> 
> I want to establish Farkle's home life and relationships because let's be honest we don't see it enough in the show (ESPECIALLY LUCAS' FAMILY LIKE HONESTLY) and because, well... I think this is going to end up being several chapters... I'm kind of falling in love with the universe I'm establishing here... I might just even have certain oneshots that are a part of this universe/"series" whatever I will name it. Maybe I'm just morbid but like dealing with the aftermath of something like this is just too juicy for me to end, I like all the places this could lead wayy too much. 
> 
> Anyways, I apologize for the wait, there's more to come.  
>  ~~Again I am so so so so sorry, I have had so much going on yikes~~
> 
> Updates will be sporadic but please know I do love this story and want to continue it.

"May I go to the restroom?" 

Farkle could feel Lucas' eyes on him.

"Yes, Farkle, you may," Mr. Matthews pointed at him as he spoke, "but hurry back. This is a _very important_ lesson."

Farkle nodded and hurried for the door. He had been holding his bladder since before he got to the school early this morning and hadn't had the opportunity to relieve himself. He hated interrupting lessons.

He went down the hall slowly, taking his time to allow himself go think, passing a tall, glass, trophy case on the way. It was a bit of a walk but it was the closest bathroom to Matthews' classroom, and...

_Beep... Beep... Beep...Beep... Beep..._

Farkle opened his eyes. It was bright, too bright, and he found himself clenching his blue eyes shut again with a groan.

"Oh my god, baby, you're awake! Honey, get in here, he's awake!" 

_Mom?_

He must have said it aloud because he immediately felt her hand on his hair, just above his left ear, as she spoke again, his head where she placed her hand was tender and her voice was softer this time, "Yeah sweetie, it's me. Your dad just stepped out to talk to the doc-"

Farkle shifted and let out another small groan, cutting her off as a small wave of pain set in, "Are they here...?" His voice was rumpled, gruff, and deep from disuse, he didn't sound at all like himself at the moment, "Maxie...? Kendall...?" He forced his eyes open, squinting at his mother by his bedside. The lights were just so bright...

Jennifer's blonde hair was unkempt, and she had no jewelry or makeup on, a rare site, but not ill-fitting considering the situation. Her soft brown eyes reddened around the edges; she let out a breath of relief before she answered, "They're at your Nana's. They have been for four days now... You've been... in and out... Do you..." She glanced down and swallowed nervously, reflexively, Farkle watched the movement closely even if he could barely keep his eyes open. She didn't bother to look back up from her fingers, fidgeting now her lap, as if she was scared to ask, scared to know, "Do you _remember_ anything, sweetie?"

Farkle looked over her for a moment, studying his mother and thinking, not finding the words till her eyes drifted back to his face, "I remember... being in class," He cleared his throat, he hated the sound of his voice enough as it were, he'd never thought he'd miss it, but here he was, "I remember... going to the bathroom... hearing the announcement for a lockdown procedure-," His dad walked in, apparently he hadn't heard Jennifer when she had called for him, as at the site of Farkle awake and talking he nearly collapsed against the door in shock, smiling, holding back tears. 

Farkle furrowed his eyebrows as he looked upon his father, not in anger, just taking a moment to process his father's emotions, the worry and obvious hope on his father's face, but his forehead and eyes hurt with the action and he very quickly schooled his features back before continuing, carefully since his audience doubled, "I-... I tried to go to the nearest classroom, but... heard them... the shots," He could feel his face had morphed back into a frown, eyebrows once again pulled together, but he ignored the pain he felt this time, it was nothing compared to the realization, to remembering, "I-I tried to hide, but I couldn't. They shot at me, but I thought it missed...?" He paused for a moment, thinking, then shook his head slowly, remembering the pain he felt in his shoulder later when it was all over and his adrenaline had died down.

"And I tried to fight him, but he threw me into the trophy case, I put my arm up," He reflexively lifted his arm as he spoke and noticed a white flash of movement, he looked down at them for the first time. Absolutely _covered_ in bandaged cuts and abrasions, his left especially, the entire area just below his elbow wrapped, no doubt it was the arm that he had tried to protect himself with. "Then I... I tried to use one of the trophies to fight him off... I hit him." 

He felt his mouth twitch into a smile at the thought that he, Farkle, had even got to give an ounce of what he got back, he ignored the twinge of pain in his broken lips that came with it, but it soon disappeared again, "But I was too close to him... his gun was down but... my hip. I remember hitting the ground. My ribs... I..." He choked on his words and swallowed, frowning deeply, "I pretended to die... Slowly... So he'd believe it... Then... I don't know _how_ long I laid there, there was- there was _so much blood-_ ,"

He felt a hand on his good shoulder stopping him and warm wetness on his face. When did he start crying? 

"It's okay, Farkle," His father, when had he reached his bedside? Stuart gave his son's shoulder a gentle squeeze and looked down at him, face full of concern and eyes nearly full of tears, "You didn't have to tell us everything, we just wanted to make sure you didn't have amnesia or anything... But I'm glad you did. Told us what you went through..." He shook his head and the hand that was on Farkle's shoulder abandoned it, now at his father's mouth in a small gasp, "I'm just so glad to see your eyes open."

Farkle smiled, his lip splitting farther causing him to stop. He absentmindedly brought a hand to his face, he pressed his fingertips to his lip and looked down at the spot of blood on them... Lucas' hand, red, sticky, in his; leaving his, that's the _last_ thing he can remember.

"Where's Lucas?" He doesn't look away from his hand, but he can still see both of his parents shift and look at each other in his peripheral. His mom is the first to speak.

"He's not here right now, but he's come by every day since... They all have." Jennifer looked across the bed to her husband, he seemed to understand and turned to his son, "He hasn't come by yet today, but he will." She gave her son a small, but reassuring smile, and he felt some tension in his shoulders he didn't realize he was holding leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your continued patience, I'm updating as often as life allows me. Love you all.


End file.
